


Hopeless Romantic

by Fairylights4672



Series: Newtmas Oneshots aka procrastination station [3]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: And my boy's lonely!, Basically everyone likes Newt's accent, Because all of his friends are together, By the end of the week, Cuz Americans have a weird obsession with Birtish accents, DIALOUGE BITCHES, Fluff and Humor, He's moving, M/M, My smog brit has come for a transfer week, Theres girls that like his accent, Thomas makes it his mission to get with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:18:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairylights4672/pseuds/Fairylights4672
Summary: "What are you reading?""Oh, it's just," Newt shrugged it off, "It's my favourite book, I've read it sixteen times." he laughed sheepishly. Thomas gaped, eyebrows shooting up."How do you not get bored?!""I just don't think you can get bored of things you love." he shrugged."Well aren't you just the hopeless romantic." Thomas teased, earning a smack around the head with the book."So what if I am?" He challenged, "Anything wrong with loving love?""Not at all," Thomas pursed his lips slightly in contemplation, "I think loving something so pure is a beautiful thing.""And I'm the hopeless romantic?" Newt raised his eyebrows, earning a shove as Thomas stood up."Oh shush, you."





	Hopeless Romantic

Thomas speared at his salad, watching Minho and Teresa giggle and kiss over the table. He scrunched up his nose in disgust, praying for when Gally and Brenda would get back to the cafeteria. They were together, but they were a lot better when it came to PDA than Minho and Teresa. 

Just as Thomas was preparing to stab himself in the eyes with his plastic fork, Brenda and Gally barrelled over, the girl slamming her bag down on the table with enough force to make Minho jump, finally drawing his attention away from his girlfriend. Thomas shot an appreciative smile at his friend, who sat down with her boyfriend in tow. She immediately leaned forward, addressing the group. The four of them immediately reacted, leaning in as well to hear what she had to say.

"So, we have news." she started, leaning forward on her elbows. _Wow._ Thomas thought. _Must be juicy._

"Is Laura pregnant?" Teresa guessed, earning an incredulous look from the other girl.

"What, no." she shook off the weird question. "All the girls are freaking out, cuz theres this new kid. Here for a transfer week." she sat back smugly, clearly knowing more than she was letting on. 

"Is it just cuz he's cute?" Minho asked, shrugging, clearly not seeing how this was any different to almost every time a new guy joined their school.

"Better." Brenda smirked. _"He's British."_ Teresa's mouth hung open for a moment, and she leaned eagerly over her boyfriend, who looked thoroughly offended, making Gally scoff to himself.

"Have you seen him yet??" The long-haired girl asked, large, blue eyes wide with curiosity. Thomas subtly leaned forward too.

"Yes we have." Gally nodded, Brenda still with a smirk plastered over her face.

"Well is he cute?!" She pressed, earning a pout from Minho, which she sheepishly gave him a peck for. Brenda squeezed her boyfriends bicep.

"Love you babe, but _yes._ He's blond, but his hairs all fluffy and gets in his eyes. They're brown, but like, almost black." she scoffed. "He's not as muscular as these three _hunks_ ," she snorted, motioning toward the three boys sat around her, "But he's got some arm muscles on him, I'll give him that."

" _And_ he's British?" Thomas let his tongue slip. The attention turned to him, Brenda's smirk turning wider if that was even possible. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at his smugly.

"Yes. And he's British. Why? You interested?" She asked, trying to make the boy intimidated. But the brunette took it in his stride, sitting back and copying Brenda's stance.

"I might be. Sounds pretty cute." he shrugged carelessly.

"That's my boy, you go get it Thomas!" Minho laughed, punching his friend in the arm encouragingly.

"You know, I reckon Thomas could get laid by the end of the week." Brenda scoffed, earning a nod from Teresa, who had a fry in her mouth.

"Or you know, maybe they begin a really sentimental and loving relationship? I mean, it's about time. Thomas is the only one of us that doesn't have anyone. You get lonely, mate?" Gally asked, Thomas nodding slowly, stunned by the boys understanding and compassion.

"Aw." Teresa giggled. "That's so cute! You have to go introduce yourself Tom!" She encouraged.

"Well, I would," He frowned slightly. "But I wouldn't know where to find him."

"Follow the gaggle of screaming girls." Minho deadpanned.

-

The chat soon faded, and Thomas almost completely forgot about the transfer student. Besides, the idea of him talking to the mysterious brit, had been just that, an idea. He hadn't planed to actually go through with it, and was certainly not actively searching for the boy.

But he'd been texting his mom in the corridor, when there had been a giggle, sounding around him. he glanced up, watching the girls by their lockers, following someone making their way down the hall, head low. Thomas frowned, only assuming it was the infamous transfer student. He looked uncomfortable with all the stares and the giggles, and the brunette sighed. It had to be intimidating, not only being in a new country, but with everyone staring and giggling at you because of something you couldn't control.

So, Thomas rolled his eyes, clearing his throat slightly.

"Oi, you lot!" he caught the attention of the girls, some blushing at the fact that _Thomas_ , was talking to them. "Can you leave him alone and cut him some slack? Stop staring and let him get through his week without having to worry about people staring at him every time he goes down a fucking hall." he grumbled, the girls immediately turning away from him and back to their lockers, some with huffs. 

The blond finally made his way over to Thomas, head still low enough to hide his features.

"Thank you." he muttered to the floor.

"It's alright," he shrugged, "do you know where you're going?" He asked. The boy looked up, laughing nervously. Thomas almost choked.

Brenda had said he was blond, but she hadn't told him how the boys hair looked like a literal halo, framing his slender, almost childlike features. He had soft skin, cheeks slightly rosy and squidgy. His large eyes were dark, sparkling slightly with wit and intelligence. He looked at Thomas through his long lashes, biting down softly on his bottom lip. His lips were pink and slightly puffy from bites, a sharp jawline finishing off his perfect face.

His build was mostly slender, quite thin and lanky. His legs were long, but looked more on the skinnier side. His arms, crossed over his books and schedule, were made up of lean muscles, the type that weren't really noticeable unless they were put into use. The blond scratched his chin sheepishly, a light pink flushing over his cheek bones.

"Not a bloody clue." Woah.

Part of Thomas couldn't blame all those girls for giggling. The boy's voice was smooth, higher than most of the boys Thomas knew. But, none of the boys Thomas knew had such an adorable accent. It made his words slightly more pronounced, lipping at the end of the words, and enunciating the world 'bloody.' How very British.

"Wh-wheres- whats your room number?" Thomas stuttered out, almost smacking himself at his new found inability to form sentences. The boy glanced down at the paper he was holding, large eyes scanning the paper.

"Uh- room, fuck," _Oh christ, it even sounded perfect when he swore_ , "Sixty-nine!" he recalled triumphantly, "Sixty-nine." he repeated.

"Oh, alright." The brunette nodded glancing at the clock on the wall. He had five minutes to get this boy where he was going, and then get to his own class, which was in room eighteen. He could've given the blond directions, but, there was no guarantee he'd make it there without Thomas to help, he told himself. "I can walk you there." he shrugged.

"Are you sure?" The boy frowned slightly, eyebrows creasing, "I wouldn't want to make you late for your class." 

"Oh nah, it's ok. My next class is in sixty-one anyway, so I'm going that way." he lied with a careless shrug. 

"Thank you." The blond smiled gratefully, Thomas beginning to walk down the corridor.

"It's alright." he shrugged. "So, what's your name?" He asked, pocketing his hands.

'Newt." The blond shrugged back.

"Newt?" Thomas repeated, raising his eyebrows, "That's unusual."

"I know." Newt laughed softly, rubbing at his muscular arm lightly, "I think my parents just hate me." he scoffed. 

"No!" The brunette protested, "It's nice. Unusual is good. It suits you." he decided, only making the blond grin wider.

"Thank you." he smiled. "That's very sweet of you, Tommy." Thomas smiled, before it fell off his face. _Hang on. Tommy? How does he know me? And why is he calling me Tommy?_

"You know my name." he pointed out, Newt nodding in agreement.

"Yes I do. I know lots about you." he shrugged. "You're well known around here. Guess I just picked things up." he admitted. Thomas hummed.

"Was whoever you were listening to calling me Tommy?"

"No, but when I saw you I just thought it suited you."

"Hey, that's my line!"

-

Over the next few days, Newt stuck to the brunette like glue. Thomas had introduced him to his friends, having to shove off and ignore their smirks and sniggers. But for the most part, he didn't see his friends for the whole week. Almost all of his time was spent with the blond, getting to know each other or just sitting in comfortable silence.

It was on the Wednesday, that they were sat in Thomas' room, Newt sat on the window ledge, reading a book. The brunette was perched on his bed, studying the neutral look on the other boys face, the way his eyes sparkled when something exciting happened or the way his lips were slightly parted in concentration.

"Newt?" He asked, the blond blinking up at him from his novel.

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" He asked, watching the boy blink in confusion with his long eyelashes. He frowned, eyebrows creasing slightly.

"Uh- I don't think so." he shook his head. "I don't think you can really love someone until you get to know the person they are. Otherwise you're only basing it on looks, and thats just superficial." he shrugged. 

"So, technically, if two people were together almost twenty-four seven, for a couple days, do you think they could fall in love?" 

"Well, yeah, I suppose, if you're using my logic." he acknowledged, shifting slightly on the ledge. "Why?" 

"Oh, nothing." Thomas waved him off, glancing back down at the Biology book he was drawing on. "Just, philosophy class."

"Tommy, you're looking at a Biology textbook." Newt scoffed, Thomas' cheeks tinting as he laughed sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah, guess it is." he threw the book over his shoulder, making the blond throw his head back with a laugh as the brunette crossed the room. Thomas sat himself down in front of the window ledge, putting his arms on it, and then resting his chin against them, gazing up at the blond, who smiled. "What are you reading?"

"Oh, it's just," Newt shrugged it off, "It's my favourite book, I've read it sixteen times." he laughed sheepishly. Thomas gaped, eyebrows shooting up.

"How do you not get bored?!"

"I just don't think you can get bored of things you love." he shrugged. 

"Well aren't you just the hopeless romantic." Thomas teased, earning a smack around the head with the book.

"So what if I am?" He challenged, "Anything wrong with loving love?"

"Not at all," Thomas pursed his lips slightly in contemplation, "I think loving something so pure is a beautiful thing."

"And _I'm_ the hopeless romantic?" Newt raised his eyebrows, earning a shove as Thomas stood up.

"Oh shush, you."

-

"THOMAS" The brunette almost slammed his locker door onto his fingers as he jumped, wheeling on his friends skidding toward him, Brenda leading the pack.

"Don't pull that shit!" He hissed, aware that people were listening.

"We have news!" Teresa explained excitedly, Brenda grabbing him by the forearm and dragging him into a nearby toilet. The group crowded in, the brunette crossing his arms over his chest.

"This had better be interesting." he grumbled.

"Oh don't worry mate," Minho chipped in, "It is."

"Well, what, what is it?" The boy pressed, thoroughly done with being the only one out of the loop.

"It's Newt." Brenda explained, leaning toward the brunette slightly, "He's gay." she whispered. Thomas blinked and moved backward, frowning deeply.

"Who is telling you this shit?" 

"Who do you think? Ava, she knows everything about everyone." Brenda rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

"Yeah, she was going around the school telling everyone. We thought you might've already known." Gally added. Thomas stepped back even more, realisation dawning.

"This- this happened just now?"

"Yeah." Gally nodded.

"Shit," The boy cursed, slipping past his friends and out of the bathroom.

"Tom, where are you going?!" Teresa called after him as he took off running down the hall, glancing at the clock. Friday: 2:55. He had ten minutes.

"I've got to find Newt!"

-

The boy barrelled into the library, the only place he could think Newt would be, ignored the librarians cries for him to stop running and be quiet. He skidded through the isles of books: seemingly the only thing that made Newt happy and passionate. He stopped short when he heard a sniff, and he whipped around, quickly heading down an isle.

Thomas kept walking, scanning for the blond. When he reached the end of the isle, he found him, and his heart broke. Newt was curled up on one of the large chairs, favourite book held close to his chest, carefully out of the way of the tears that were flooding down his cheeks. He had his head buried into himself, sniffing and hiccuping. 

"N- Newt.." Thomas' voice made the blond jump out of his slump, quickly pulling at his sleeve and hastily wing the tears away. The brunette crouched down in front of him, the blond refusing to meet his eye. 

"W-hat are y-you doing here Tommy?" he sniffled, still fruitlessly trying to rid his tears from his rosy cheeks.

"I heard what happened." he murmured sadly.

"O-oh. No do- doubt you don't want to be my friend anymore." he hiccuped, fatherly adorably. Thomas frowned, reaching out and gingerly taking the blonds hand.

"Newt, don't be silly. Listen, they're all just gossipers. That's what high schoolers do: they gossip and judge before they've even gotten to know eachother. And it's wrong." he squeezed gently, the blond's tears clinging to his long eyelashes. "I don't care that you're gay Newt. Because at the end of the day, you're more than who you're attracted too. And the good people in the world will accept you for who you are, as a whole." The blond sniffed, offering a tiny, grateful smile. Thomas moved to sit next to him on the chairs, keeping their fingers intertwined.

"I- I don-t know if I want to g-go to this school anymore Tommy." he murmured. Thomas' heart broke, and he almost dropped his shoulders in sadness and disappointment, but he stayed strong enough to not give much away.

"Well, that's ok." he hummed. "I'd miss you, a lot, but I understand if you wouldn't want to go here." he squeezed again, Newt watching him intently.

"Then- then give me a reason to stay." Newt whispered, finally drying his eyes and recomposing himself a little.

"Huh?"

"Well, I have a million reasons to walk away, but I just need one good one to stay." he explained, swallowing down his congestion. Thomas studied the boys face: still quite blotchy, dark eyes glassy and lips swollen from crying. Thomas didn't think anyone could look pretty crying but he'd been proven wrong. 

He didn't want Newt to leave. He wanted Newt to stay, stay with him and tell him more about his favourite book, tell him more about his opinions on love. A week ago, if you'd told Thomas that he'd fall in love within a week, he'd have called bullshit. But, well, now, at least he had an interesting story to tell in his philosophers class.

So, he moved forward and touched their lips together. It was a brush, a question. A question Newt answered with a small catch of breath, before he chased after Thomas' lips. When they met for the second time, it was firmer. They were soft with each other, the blond drawing him closer by the shirt. As he did so, Thomas had to stick a hand out to steady the two of them on the chair, as Newt leaned backward, pulling Thomas closer. Thomas' other hand went to cup Newt's cheek, tenderly wiping away any traces of tears that might be left.

When he pulled away, the blond was staring at him with his large eyes, pupils blown wide and cheeks red.

"Is that a good enough reason?" He asked.

"Yes." Newt replied breathlessly. The end of school bell made them both jump, resulting in quiet laughs and giggles. "I've got to go." The blond said finally, sadness lacing his tone.

"When will I see you again?" The brunette took the boy's hand.

"When school starts again." The blond replied sullenly.

"That's not too long." Thomas tried to convince himself. 

"Will you forget about me?" Newt asked, blinking slowly.

"No, of course not." 

"And you'll wait for me?" He asked hopefully, Thomas smiling fondly.

"Yeah. And we'll do it properly next time. No rushing." 

"That sounds perfect." New grinned, kissing the brunette hastily on the cheek and standing, grabbing his bag. Thomas grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into another kiss, firm. It was curious, and almost sad, laced with silent promises of more time together, of patience and the wait until they could see one another again. When Newt drew away, breathless and grinning, he squeezed the brunettes hand before letting go.

"Promise you'll wait Tommy?"

"Promise I'll wait." He repeated. Newt grinned and left the library quickly with a final smile and wave, off to take the flight back to England. 

Thomas smiled to himself, sitting down again. He blinked at something to his right, picking up Newt's book with a small catch of breath. He contemplated running after the blond to give it back, but part of him told Thomas Newt had left it for a reason.

Flicking through, Thomas frowned. Some parts were highlighted _. Why would you highlight a novel?_ He skipped to a random paragraph, shaded in neon colour. He read it with a smile, before flicking to the next one, and the next one, smile spreading wilder every time he did.

Every paragraph highlighted was a paragraph based on love.

He really was a hopeless romantic.

And Thomas had fallen for a hopeless romantic.

He supposed he just really loved love.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow who can spot the lyrics I had stuck in my head?  
> I dunno if I like this, I think it's a little rushed but welp it'll do  
> Edit: hey guys, I probably won’t be able to post from Wednesday to Friday because I’m doing shows until late. Sorry! But, when I’m back, my new fic will start! <33  
> Edit pt2: My breaks over, I'm writing again. Check out my page for my next fic y'all ;)


End file.
